And So It Goes
by Tala Mitena
Summary: Companion to Fairy Tale Ending. Sometimes the one you love is just using you to hide, and sometimes a stranger is the one who picks you up and carries you home. LR
1. Part the First: In Cautious Tones

Author's Note: Here it is - the follow-up story to "Fairy Tale Ending"! Many of you have been wondering what's going on with Squall at the end of that little ficlet, and this here fic answers those questions. So, enjoy! (And then go to my profile page and commission me. . .)

Disclaimer: Everyone knows I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Nor do I own the song "And So It Goes", by Billy Joel,which inspired the title and appears before the beginning of each chapter.

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And So It Goes:

_Part the First: "In Cautious Tones"_

_-I spoke to you in cautious tones. You answered me with no pretense. Still I feel I said to much. My silence is my self defense.-_

Despite ardent self-protestations, he worried.

Why, after years of worry-free bliss, did he suddenly worry about Riku? Why did he, despite not wanting to, feel that there was legitimate reason and due cause to worry about Riku?

He and Riku were similar in some aspects, and Squall had the distinct impression that Riku, like himself, did not want pity and did not need anyone to worry about him. Riku was strong; he could pull himself up by his own bootstraps and start off again in about the same shape he was in to begin with. Squall was confident about that; their similarities were fairly evident, and Squall had always been able to survive on his own.

Survive. . .yes. . .but, perhaps, if someone had been there to worry about him, to let him know they were worried, then perhaps Squall wouldn't be the walled up, broken down, frozen wreck of a human being he was.

And maybe the parts of himself he saw in Riku were the cause of Squalls worrying. Maybe they were beginning to become too evident. Maybe Squall was worried about Riku because he saw that Riku was heading down a path he himself had traveled long ago.

"I can't do this anymore," Riku whispered, pushing a pile of string beans back and forth on his plate, watching the movement intently.

Squall glanced at him and furrowed his brows.

"Yes, you can," he assured the silver-haired boy.

Riku's fork clattered against his plate as he dropped the utensil and shot a not-even-half-hearted glare at his companion.

"I'm not as strong as you think I am, Squall," he said after a moment, "I'm not strong at all. He. . .Sora. . .Sora was always strong for me. I didn't need to be strong because he was always there, and now. . ."

Riku paused and Squall glanced away, staring at the wall to try to decrease the level of awkwardness.

"I don't know what to do, Squall," the boy continued, his voice surprisingly calm and steady, "I'm not. . .I can't. . .I don't know what to do."

Squall looked back at Riku and sighed, before staring at his almost empty plate.

"You'll figure something out," he muttered.

"No I won't," was Riku's nearly immediate response, "I'm not strong, Squall. I can't take care of myself – I've never had to. My mother did it for me and after she died Sora took over, and he never even let me try to care for myself. He was so good to me for so long, so perfect, and I went and ruined it all."

"He was the one who left you. How is any of this your fault?"

"Because he's Sora!" Riku spat. "He doesn't make mistakes! He hasn't changed one bit since the day I've met him – he's always been kind and sweet and loving, and I've always ruined everything I touched. And I ruined this. I don't know how I did, but if Sora doesn't love me anymore than it is my fault, not his. Never his. He doesn't make mistakes."

Squall was silent for a long moment as Riku hung his head and stared into his lap, and lookers on joined his staring, the crowd in the small diner they were in suddenly overwhelmingly interested in Riku's personal life.

"It's probably for the best that he left before I could ruin him."

The brunette froze and stifled a sigh. Riku was in even worse shape than Squall had suspected.

"You'll get through this," he grumbled, desperate to change the subject. He was neither fond of nor good at comforting others – even if, for whatever reason, he did worry about them.

Riku shook his head.

"I'm not like you," he whispered.

Scoffing, Squall concentrated on the check their waiter had just dropped off.

"It's for the best, kid," he muttered, rising and motioning for the silver-haired boy to follow him. The boy brushed past him and out the door quickly, and Squall was not sure what to make of this, but suspected that he had said something to offend Riku.

Before he could even begin to ponder what could have possibly done so, a voice, and a familiar one at that, called out, piercing the cold air with its sudden appearance.

"Riku?" it called, almost squeaking.

Riku froze and Squall could see a ghost of dread and a shadow of hope dance across his face briefly. The boy turned and swallowed hard.

"Sora?" he managed as his eyes landed on the small brunette standing in the middle of the sidewalk, looking positively awestruck. Squall was amazed by the fact that Riku's voice had been smooth, completely natural.

"What, what should I do? Squall?" Riku whispered frantically, his thumb and middle finger delicately and absentmindedly tugging on Squall's sleeve.

"Squall? I don't. . .what do I. . .?"

"Talk to him," Squall answered.

"I don't know if I can."

"You have to."

Riku pouted and, for a moment, looked pleadingly up at the older man, who raised an eyebrow in an attempt to persuade Riku to take his advice.

The boy sighed and turned back to Sora, his fingers pulling at Squall's sleeve sharply as they flew away. Squall flinched at the slight tug and the swift, soft brush of Riku's fingertips against his arm.

The two walked forward and Sora's eyes dropped quickly to the ground, watching his feet shift weight as if they were suddenly very entertaining.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice almost as thin and wavering as Riku's had been earlier that day.

"Hey," Riku replied. Squall nodded a greeting, noting that Riku seemed to be looking past Sora, rather than at him.

"How have you been?" the younger brunette continued.

"Good," Riku said after a short, almost un-noticeable struggle to get his throat working. "You?"

"Okay," Sora paused and quickly looked away, "I. . .I should go now. It was good to see you again," he whispered, obviously making an effort not to look Riku in the eye.

"Yeah. Yeah, same here," Riku murmured, his voice cracking a bit. He inched closer to Squall and rested his hand against Squall's abdomen. The touch was scorching and the boy's hand trembled, and so Squall dismissed the gesture as an unthinking action, produced by Riku's nerves. He'd probably just needed something sturdy to hold on to as his world finished sinking away, falling out from beneath his feet.

Riku watched Sora as the boy stood still, staring at his feet, just as he had been for some time now. Squall studied the silver-haired one's face and felt the continuing tremble of his hand. He needed to get Riku out of here.

Squall pulled Riku's hand away from his stomach, flinching as its warmth was replaced with cold air, and turned around, leading him back towards the car.

"Squall. . ." Riku rasped, almost sobbed, "Squall, he. . ."

The brunette opened the door to the passenger side of his car and ushered Riku in.

"I know," he said, shushing the boy softly, before making his way around the car and sliding into the driver's seat.

"He just walked away," Riku said, staring blankly ahead as the door clicked shut.

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Squall carefully poured hot water into a large mug before placing a tea bag in it, allowing the small pouch to steep for a few moments. Leaning against the wall for a moment, he sighed and ran a hand through his thick, shaggy hair. 

Riku hadn't spoken since he and Squall had gotten into the car after running into Sora. Clearly, the boy hadn't been ready for such an encounter, even if the breakup had been about two months ago. Squall had the sneaking suspicion that Riku would never fully heal.

But he could heal, somewhat, and it had to be soon. Riku's small chance of ever healing even at least a little was swiftly disappearing.

Squall pushed away from the wall and grabbed the mug, making his way to the living room, where Riku was sitting on the couch. The boy was slumped forward, head resting on his knees, and the brunette crossed to the couch and took a seat next to him, carefully setting the mug down on the coffee table.

Riku straightened quickly and turned away. He sniffed a few times, then fell silent, his shoulders trembling, the movement barely detectable.

Squall's mind searched for something to say, recalling that Riku had asked him to "just speak" earlier, and noting that the silence probably bothered Riku, who was used to the energy and volume of Sora.

But the silence was suddenly shattered by a strangled sort of half sob, and it actually surprised Squall, who reacted without thinking.

"Are you crying?" he asked, unable to stop his voice from conveying his surprise.

Riku still looked down, seeming almost defeated.

"Yes," he whispered, reaching up to wipe a tear away from his eyes. Allowing a sob to slip out, Riku continued to stare at the floor, and Squall reached over. He pulled the boy closer to him, shivering slightly as Riku buried his face in the crook of Squall's neck. His breath spread like wildfire, scorching and a little frightening, across the brunette's skin. The boy's hand clutched desperately at the fabric of Squall's shirt, and the brunette stroked his hair and whispered soft comforts, holding Riku tight to stop the shake of his shoulders.

After a moment Riku's sobbing hushed and he stilled, but he did not move away, despite the fact that Squall's arms had loosened, signaling that the younger man could decide what to do.

And turn fabric clutched in his hand was twisted about his fingers, the remained of the garment stretching slightly over Squall's broad chest, and Riku lifted his jewelry eyes to meet Squall's tempest gaze.

The boy's eyes shone, still wet with sorrow, and he blinked slowly, lips spreading into a small smile that had very little meaning.

"Thank you," he whispered, his fingertips drumming briefly on Squall's chest.

The brunette watched Riku's smile disappear, saw the serene sort of sorrowful acceptance creep into his bright eyes, and felt the almost desperate, and most definitely unintentional press of Riku's body against his own.

Silently, he cupped the boy's chin, tilting Riku's face up towards his own.

And then Squall kissed him.

Or maybe he kissed Squall. Neither was sure which it was, but neither cared as Riku clung to the brunette, pressing closer to him and twisting thick, chestnut locks in his hands.

Squall wrapped his arms more tightly around Riku's waist, who responded by parting his lips slightly, breathing out slowly against Squall's mouth. The brunette slipped his tongue past the soft swells of flesh, where it brushed quickly against Riku's.

The silver-haired boy sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he responded eagerly to Squall. He rose onto his knees, straddling the brunette's lap, and pulled sharply at the locks of hair entangled in his fingers, jerking Squall's head back. Leaning into the kiss, Riku pushed fiercely against Squall's tongue, running his own slowly along the roof of the brunette's mouth.

Squall flinched, a small tremor coursing through his frame, before grabbing the younger man's waist and pushing him down against the couch. He pulled away from the kiss and bent to nip lightly at the sweet flesh of Riku's slender neck.

The silver-haired boy gasped sharply and hissed in pain as he kept one hand tangled in Squall's hair and ran the other over the firm muscles of the brunette's back. Whimpering softly, he pulled Squall's face towards his own and pressed his lips firmly against those of the brunette.

Each parted their lips willingly, almost eagerly, and their tongues met, fervently searching the velvety caverns of each other's mouths, running over silky cheeks and ivory teeth as if they would suddenly slip away, dissolve into darkness. They clung to each other just as desperately, hands tangled in hair and pulling at shirts, straining the fabric almost to the point of ripping.

Riku's blunt nails dug into the Squall's back, raking across the firm muscles and smooth skin as he moaned softly into the kiss, rolling his hips upwards against the brunette's.

Instantly, Squall jerked away from the kiss, gazing curiously at the boy pinned beneath him. Riku was flushed and breathing hard, his lips bruised and swollen and his eyes shone darkly. His glittering silver locks fanned out against the smooth, dark fabric of the couch, and fell across his shoulders, brushing against the well defined line of his collar bone, which peeked out of his black button-up shirt. The top three buttons were undone. Squall didn't remember doing that.

Sighing heavily, he pushed himself away from Riku, leaning back against the couch, and ran his hands through his hair. The silver-haired boy next to him sat up, his slender fingers curling almost cautiously around Squall's arm. Riku's breathing was still deep and sporadic; his eyes still a hazy emerald rather than their usual bright, clear turquoise.

Placing his free hand on Squall's shoulder, Riku leaned over and planted a small kiss at the corner of the brunette's mouth. The warmth of his quick breath ghosted over Squall's lips, and the older of the two turned away.

As willing as Riku seemed to be, this was not right. Riku was still broken, he was still covered in raw, stinging wounds, and this would only tear off the scabs and rip open the scars.

"Squall," Riku whispered, nestling his face into Squall's neck and pressing his lips against the edge of the brunette's jaw. His tongue flicked out to briefly trace the smooth line and his fingers walked slowly, deliberately across Squall's collarbone, sweeping along the ridge and pulling at the fabric of his shirt.

Squall groaned silently, trying desperately not to concentrate on the soft pressure against his jaw. Or the hand wrapped around his arm. Or the pinpricks of warmth and pleasure that sprung up beneath Riku's roaming fingers.

"Squall," Riku whispered again, the 'l' lingering on his tongue, drawling and melting into a chilling, liquid sound.

"Riku," the brunette muttered, peeling the boy's hand away from his arm, "stop." His voice wavered and he inwardly frowned at the sound of it.

"This isn't right," he continued as Riku weaved his fingers into Squall's, grasping the brunette's hand.

"No. Please. I need this," Riku whispered, pressing his thumb into the older man's palm and sighing.

The brunette stiffened as Riku rested his head on his shoulder, bad remained silent. He wanted to move, to get up and walk away, he knew it was what should do, but his mind seemed more intent on concentrating on the thumb sketching invisible lines across his palm and the almost innocent rise and fall of the chest pressed against his own.

"Squall," Riku continued, practically whining and placing the brunette's hand on his hip. He lifted his head and planted a quick, cautious kiss on Squall's lips.

The brunette stiffened even more, but responded to the kiss, much to his dismay.

Riku's eyes searched his, fingertips continuing to trace the smooth lines of Squall's hand, who couldn't stop thinking about the way his name had fallen from the younger boy's lips.

He'd said it the way he said Sora's name; longingly, almost painfully, and desperately.

Sighing, Riku removed the hand keeping Squall's in place and stood slowly, silently starting to move away.

But as he stepped forward, Squall slipped a finger into the boy's belt-loop and pulled him backwards. His knees pressed against the brunette's and he regarded Squall, puzzled.

The brunette continued to lead Riku towards him, stopping only when the boy was forced into his lap once more. The air between them grew thick and heavy as they both hovered mere millimeters away from a kiss, hesitating, waiting. Neither dared to move, each gazing at the other expectantly as their breath and pulse quickened in anticipation.

Finally, Riku lifted a hand to cup Squall's cheek, and the brunette captured Riku's lips with his own in a sharp shock of contact. The boy recoiled slightly as their tongues met, and Squall trailed his fingers along the boy's spine, coaxing him into leaning forward.

Humming contentedly, Riku wrapped his arms around Squall's neck, his eyes slipping closed, and the brunette slid his hands up the boy's side, skimming over the fabric of his shirt. His tongue moved slowly against Riku's, gently persuading him to respond with long, slow strokes of his own.

Hands moving to rest on Squall's chest, Riku deepened the kiss, pushing against the brunette's warm body, and slowly fanned out his fingers. His hands slipped up the brunette's broad chest and skimmed over his shoulders, traveling down his arms and grasping his hands. Carefully, he stood and pulled Squall up with him, stepping slowly backwards as the latter nipped lightly at his lip.

They paused a moment as Squall released the soft swell of flesh and Riku's tongue flicked out to ease the pain. The silver-haired boy gasped for breath before grabbing Squall's face, rising on tiptoes to meet the older man's lips. He swept his tongue about the crevices and hollows of Squall's mouth feverishly as the brunette fought back, pushing Riku down the hall.

As their tongues dueled, each struggling for dominance, the two walked carefully backwards, bodies still pressed together and fingers intertwined. They staggered slightly, veering off towards the wall, and Riku's step faltered and he stumbled back while desperately trying not to break the kiss.

Wrapping an arm around Riku's waist, Squall hoisted the boy towards him, gaining easier access to the kiss and forcing Riku to relinquish the fight for dominance. The boy locked his feet behind Squall's back, his legs hugging the brunette's waist, and grunted and gasped in pain as Squall pushed him against the wall. Leaving one hand against the wall, Squall pulled away from the kiss, a small stream of saliva trailing in the air between him and Riku. He slipped a hand between them, fingers working quickly at the remaining buttons of Riku's shirt and pushed the garment off to rest pinned against the wall.

The boy bent his head back as Squall trailed kisses down the smooth, graceful lines of his neck, nipping and suckling at the pale, sweet skin. He moved his hand to Riku's waist as the boy gripped his shoulders, and rolled his hips forward, grinding them against Riku's arousal. The silver-haired boy gasped sharply, tightening his hold on Squall's shoulders.

The brunette repeated the action, and Riku lifted his hips away from the wall to meet Squall's and released a shoulder to tangle his hand in thick hair.

Their lips met again, barely waiting for contact before parting to accommodate hungry tongues. They consumed each other, fingers grabbing, pulling and roaming, tongues twisting and tangled, and breath escaping in hot bursts and low, hushed moans. The seams of Squall's shirt strained against each other as Riku pulled at the fabric and squirmed against the wall, desperate to rid himself and Squall of all remaining inhibitions.

So, with a throaty growl, he pushed forward, away from the wall, his shirt finally slipping to the ground as Squall staggered before quickly regaining balance. He stepped to the side and Riku reached behind him, groping for a doorknob and pushing the door open once he'd found it. The pair stumbled into the room and Squall opened one eye to peer at his surroundings.

They were in what had once been Sora's room.

But Riku didn't seem to notice, and through the heat and haze, Squall couldn't find any part of him that cared.

He pushed Riku backwards onto the bed and the silver-haired one pulled Squall's shirt off as he fell, tossing it to the side as the brunette kneeled above him, bending to once again capture Riku's lips.

Their kisses were quick and wet, as both were breathing heavily and their blood was racing too hot and too fast for them to care about the saliva that trickled from the corners of their mouths.

Riku's hands skimmed almost possessively over Squall's chest, his fingertips burning trails into the elder's skin as Riku gladly drowned in the new sensation, fingers sliding and soaking up the small, scattered drops of sweat that were beading there.

None of this was familiar, none of it safe. This was something forbidden; this was not at all like Sora.

Which was exactly what Riku needed right now.

Not Sora.

Sora had been soft, warm, and tender and caring. Squall was firm and strong, and more than warm. Squall was scalding, his touch burned away all of Riku's doubts, setting fire to his sorrow and insecurities, and they fell away, ash white, to rest on the floor of what was no longer Sora's room. His lips and breath flamed against Riku's skin, leaving it to smolder as the younger breathed his own heavy, fiery breaths.

Riku's hands continued roaming as Squall trailed kisses down his abdomen and something once sleeping rumbled inside him, begging for exposure and attention. It did not want what only Sora could give it; it wanted something more primal, something wilder and stronger.

And Squall did not hesitate to respond to it as Riku released a throaty growl, which echoed that no longer slumbering need. His fingers dipped beneath the waist of Riku's jeans, tips whispering across his abdomen before expertly un-working the button and zipper. The silver-haired boy's remaining garments were quickly disposed of as he worked his fingers into Squall's thick hair, pulling him up for another kiss.

Riku fumbled with the brunette's pants, all hot, moist breath and hooded eyes, and too distracted to know what he was doing. Finally, Squall helped the process along and the world exploded in white heat as Riku slid into his lap and they came together.

All was lost in that flash of light except the two of them and that wild something, which had escaped and ran in beads of sweat across flushed skin and flew through the thick, heavy air in gasps and moans.

Until suddenly it all came crashing back down around them and Riku slumped forward, his slick skin sliding against Squall's as the brunette embraced him. Squall watched as Riku's eyes slipped closed and the boy sighed contentedly. For a long while both remained silent, and Squall felt Riku's breathing slow and his flushed skin cool. The silver-haired boy's hands were resting on his companion's chest, and his index and middle fingers began to tap against the firm muscles in time with Squall's heartbeat. The brunette concentrated weakly on the rhythm until it ceased.

"Squall," Riku whispered, "promise you'll never leave me?"

Squall hesitated, slowly trailing his fingers through Riku's hair.

"You know I can't do that," he replied.

"I know. But. . .just say it anyway?"

The brunette remained silent, contemplating how to handle this delicate situation. He would not make empty promises. . .

But then again, Riku would never really be his to leave.

"I promise."


	2. Part the Second: Felt the Thorns

Author's Note: Eh. . .I'm kind of dissapointed by the fact that so many people read this without ever reading Fairy Tale Ending. It says they're companions in the summary, so wouldn't it be logical to read Fairy Tale Ending before this? This is, after all, kind of a sequel. Kind of, considering the fact that about three quarters of it takes place during FTE. So yeah, if you haven't ready Fairy Tale Ending yet, please do it. Many thanks to those of you who actually did.

And So It Goes:

_Part the Second: "Felt the Thorns"_

_- And every time I've held a rose, it seems I've only felt the thorns.  
And so it goes, and so it goes. And so will you soon, I suppose. -_

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"You know, I dream about him sometimes," Riku murmured, staring into the rich, mahogany liquid in the mug sitting before him. It was stated in a very matter-of-fact fashion, thrown into the air offhandedly, very 'just thought you should know'.

Squall peered over the rim of his own mug, studying Riku's bent head and the way his glittering bangs swept over his eyes. Swallowing a mouthful of coffee, he set down his cup and silently cleared his throat.

"Oh?" he asked, carefully removing his gaze from Riku before the boy lost interest in his drink. Squall hated when Riku caught him staring. Riku always seemed so smug, proud that Squall found him appealing; seemed a little bit more like he was before The Breakup, a little more like Sora's Riku.

Riku nodded, and Squall did not bother to ask for an explaination.

"I dreamed about him last night," the silver-haired boy continued, dangling the last word, indicating that he'd soon continue.

Stiffening, Squall rose to place his now empty mug in the sink. He didn't need to hear about this. He'd known about it, it was obvious. Some nights Riku would wake suddenly and cling to the brunette, wrapping fingers around his arm, digging blunt nails into barely-feeling flesh, and Squall knew that Riku had been dreaming. But he didn't need to hear about it, even if Riku found it necessary.

Which, apparently, he did.

"We were kissing," he began, before quickly throwing a flustered glance upwards and stammering, "Us, not me and. . ._we_ were kissing. The two of us, on a beach, in the water. Then, there was this wave, and it washed over us, and then, all of a sudden, you weren't there anymore."

As he paused, Squall leaned against the counter, staring at the boy with arched brow, intent on only half listening to Riku, as had become habit. Riku tended to ramble these days, and Squall had no patience for it.

Because when Riku rambled, it meant he was. . .

"I looked for you," the boy whispered, "for a long time. I tried to call out for you, but I couldn't make a sound, and I swam. I swam until I couldn't breathe, until I thought I'd drown," his tone was somber, and he sounded eerily like he was delivering a eulogy.

The brunette shifted weight uncomfortably.

"When I turned around, there was someone on shore. It was him."

Every muscle in Squall's body stiffened, and he let out a thin, silent sigh as the silver-haired boy continued.

"I swam in and tried to call for him, but I still couldn't speak. When I reached him, he was smiling - smirking. He never smirked in real life. Ever. Not once. He had. . .his eyes were. . .grey. He had grey eyes. _Your_ eyes," Riku glanced up, locking on to those tempestuous orbs and boring through them, scraping away at steel to find the raw flesh he knew was hiding somewhere behind the storm.

Squall turned his head to the side. He didn't want Riku looking at grey while he was thinking about blue. How was he supposed to compete with searing, center-of-the-flame blue, when all he had was storm-cloud grey?

Grey could fade so easily. Blue. . .

Squall hated blue. Blue kind of. . .

"I asked him why, but, again, I couldn't speak. He reached out to me, offered me his hand, but when I tried to take it. . .chains just. . .shot out of his wrist and wrapped around me. They were covered in blood, and I remember thinking that some of it was probably mine."

The brunette listened, unable to compel himself to do anything but listen, despite the need to comfort the boy. He still hadn't gotten used to the feeling of wanting to see someone happy, let alone _needing_ to.

"I, uh, asked him something," Riku drawled. The tone of his voice. . .something about it caused Squall to instantly throw away thoughts of grey that should be blue and risk catching Riku's eye.

Turquoise, which was just not-blue enough to be comforting, begged him for a reaction, for less space between the storm and the land it wept for.

"I mouthed a question, but I can't remember what it was. He just kept smirking, shook his head, and. . .pushed me. He pushed me into the water, and I guess I drowned. "

It begged for strong arms that scorched instead of warmed. It wanted heat somewhere between the light and the dark. It did not want blue heat.

It _needed_ blue heat, but sometimes want was stronger than need.

Squall still hated blue. Blue kind of. . .

"Weird, huh?" Riku asked, snapping his head to the side and smiling.

The brunette blinked. That kid made hiding emotions seems so natural. His smile did not even slightly strain his delicate features, and the transition had been so smooth, so sudden. . .

Squall wouldn't have caught that air of uncertainty, of desperation, that came with hiding, if he hadn't once been the same way; if he hadn't hidden his emotions to the point where it was questionable as to whether or not he even had them anymore.

Now he was worried. Riku had begun hiding. Squall had thought he wa helping the boy, stopping him from spiralling into a life of nothing but turning away and walling walls. Now, Riku was closer to the abyss. Now. . .

Now it seemed like Squall was just helping the process along.

He moved slowly, cautiously. He moved slowly and barely dared to breathe as he succumbed to the begging eyes, now withdrawn, and took a seat next to Riku, rather than across from him, as was customary.

Blue was harsh. Grey wasn't. Grey was good at comforting.

At least, that was the logic Squall relied on as he cast softened, grey eyes on the hiding boy.

Grey may have been good at comforting, but Squall was not. Not when he had to rely on words.

Riku glanced at the brunette, and his smile faltered, lips twitchin and falling into a thin line as he lowered his eyes once more.

"Riku," Squall chided, reaching over to tilt the boy's chin towards him in an effort to get the boy to look at him.

Riku frowned, eyes pointedly focused on something on the floor. Or, perhaps, they were focused on nothing in particular, an ideal that resided somewhere past reality; somewhere beyond the here and the now.

"Riku, look at me."

The boy's teeth ground against each other and his frown deepened, brows drawing together in annoyance.

"Riku," firmer, more persistent.

Growling softly, Riku jerked his head to the side, freeing himself from Squall, who scoffed, running his hands through his hair, cradling his head and resting his elbows on the table. He squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed.

Riku was farther gone than he had though and the only way he could move closer to the surface was with help. Squall had to help him, had to get him to open up.

"What do you want me to do?" the brunette grumbled, "What can I do to help you?"

"You could start listening to me when I talk to you."

"I listen," Squall half lied. He half lied, because he half listened, and he half listened beause Riku rambled. And when Riku rambled, it meant he was thinking about Sora.

Riku glared at Squall, one eyebrow arched delicately.

"You don't talk Riku. How am I supposed to listen if you don't talk?"

"I talk all the time!" Riku cried, sounding rather offended.

"But you don't talk _about_ anything."

Again, the boy frowned, challenging Squall with his just not-blue enough eyes.

"You ramble, Riku."

Riku's expression changed instantly, anger morphing effortlessly into something akin to surprise. He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, before pouting resolutely.

"Sora rambled," he threw out into the air in a childish attempt to defend himself.

It was the first time he'd spoken Sora's name aloud in months, and he reacted as if those two simple syllables had torn apart his mouth, clamping it shut and clenching his jaw.

"Riku, it's different, you know that," Squall murmured, though his tone was slightly more gruff than he'd intended it to be.

"How?" the boy asked, sounding absolutely defeated.

"He rambled because he had too many things he wanted to talk about. _You _ramble because you're trying to avoid talking about the one thing you actually want to talk about, the one thing you _need_ to talk about."

Riku turned away from Squall, moving so that his back was towards the brunette, who hoped he had not pushed too far. It was something he had a knack for, not knowing when to stop pushing. Which is why he continued, just in case he hadn't pushed far enough.

"You have to open up to me, Riku."

"I'm open, Squall."

"No, you're not. You closed up after that one time at the diner."

"Maybe I just 'open up' differently than you think I do. Maybe you'd know that if you listened to me!"

"I'll listen when you actually have something to say," Squall muttered, careful not to raise his voice. Riku responded more when Squall did not respond conventionally.

Scoffing angrily, Riku sank down in his chair, slouching in a way that was hard to imagine as being comfortable, and pointedly turning further away from the brunette.

Squall could tell that Riku was waiting for a more appropriate response, so, leaning forward, he waited for Riku to give up.

"Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I don't open up because _you_ don't open up?" the boy murmured finally, whirling around suddenly, his face a meager inch away from Squall's.

"What?" the elder asked lamely, taken aback by this statement.

"You _never_ opened up to me, not once. And you rarely ever talk, Squall, and _you're_ pushing _me_ to open up? How can you expect me to confide in you, if you don't confide in me?"

"Riku, this isn't about me," the brunette protested, desperately trying to turn the focus away from himself.

"Yes it is!" the boy cried, "This is all about you! _You _want me to open up. _You_ want me to spill my guts so that _you_ can feel more secure about where our relationship stands. And _you_ are the one who won't open up in the first place!"

Squall froze, his hand half-raised. He wasn't sure what he'd been intending to do with that hand, so he dropped it, and sighed. It was his turn to turn away now, his turn to grab onto every bit of denial and stubborness that he posessed and build his walls. It wasn't hard, not anymore.

"Well what do you want me to do, Squall?" Riku mocked, twisting position so that he was again facing the brunette.

"What can I do to help you, Squall? See, I _can_ help, because _I_ listen, or at least I would, but you don't talk, Squall. How am I supposed to listen if you don't talk?"

Squall had never hated the sound of his own name more than he did at that exact moment.

He hated it even more than he hated blue.

Riku looked at him expectantly, eyes narrowed, teeth bared. He was waiting, for an apology, for an explosion, for anything but Squall's ever calm voice softly chiding him.

And Squall knew that he could not react unexpectedly, not this time. Not when all the blue had left Riku's eyes, leaving behind only sea-after-the-storm green.

Riku was right. He had to open up to the boy. He had to, it was the only way to save Riku.

And maybe, in the meantime, he could save himself.

But, while walls were easy to build, they were not easy to scale, and so, he remained silent.

Riku's expression softened, his eyes lowering and his mouth puckering into a small, pathetic pout.

"Fuck you," he whispered, turning to walk away and scoffing silently.

As the silver-haired, broken boy crossed the room silently, something in Squall shut down, perhaps it was logic, and the walls crumbled and he did the only thing he though he _could_ do at that moment.

* * *

"Fight with your boyfriend?" the man behind the bar asked as Squall silently took a seat. 

The brunette merely locked his stone gaze on the man's smiling face.

"Sorry," he replied, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, "that was a very bold assumption for me to make."

". . . Whatever," Squall muttered, carefully studying the man's expression and making sure to dislike him, if only because his wild blonde hair and sharp, yet calm, blue eyes reminded Squall of Sora.

He hated blue.

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

"What?"

"I always am. It comes with the job. So, what do you want?"

Again, the brunette remained silent.

"So you're a talker, not a drinker. Then I'm definitely right," the blonde boasted, leaning against the bar so that he was closer to Squall, his calm-before-the-storm eyes silently questioning the brunette.

"Yeah," Squall muttered, caving in.

He hated blue. Blue kind of. . .

"What'd you do?"

"What makes you think _I_ did aything wrong?"

"Well, you're the one here aren't you? The offender is always the one who runs off to drown his sorrows."

The brunette glanced away, clenching his jaw and, as usual, saying nothing.

"At least it shows that you're sorry?" the blonde murmured softly, sliding down the bar a little so that he could see Squall's face again.

And he stared, expression blank, but blue eyes pleading for a response from the broken down, walled up, frozen excuse of a human being in front of him.

"You know," he whispered, "you meet a lot of people as a bartender, but I've never met anyone with eyes like yours. Not once."

Squall looked up at the blonde, eyebrow raised sharply.

Since when did bartenders hit on their customers? Their male customers who had already established the fact that they were in a relationship?

"So what'd you do?" the blonde reiterated, smiling, his blue eyes muted so that they were no longer sharp and no longer reminded Squall of Sora.

Blinking, the brunette sighed and decided to, well, open up, for once.

Maybe it was the blue.

"I said 'I love you'."

"But you didn't mean it?"

"No, I don't think I did."

"You don't _think_ you did?"

"No, I don't _think_ I did," Squall repeated firmly.

"But you might?"

"I don't know."

The bartender leaned even closer, those serene eyes locking on to Squall once more. His breath whispered ocer the brunette's cheeks as he spoke, his tone sad, sincere.

"He doesn't love you, does he?"

"No," Squall murmured, returning the blonde's gaze, "he doesn't."

Those calm eyes were lost for a moment as the bartender blinked slowly, and then they returned in a blaze of blue.

Squall hated blue.

Blue kind of hurt.


	3. Part the Third: My Worst Mistake

Author's Note: Part the Third? Already? Yes! I've been in super write mode for the past week or so, so expect a lot of updates from me in the near future. Okay, so, Part the Third. We're almost done with And So It Goes! So sad. Anyway, this chapter, as well as the last chapter, is shorter than I would have liked it to be, but I can't do anything about it. Especially this part. It's short, and mostly dialogue, which makes it even shorter than it seems. Gross. Anyway, on to Part the Third!

* * *

And So It Goes:Part the Third: "My Worst Mistake" 

_- But if my silence made you leave, then that would be my worst mistake.  
__So I will share this room with you, and you can have this heart to break. –_

"Squall!"

The name rang through the hollows of the house, which was not his, echoing in the corners and gathering in the shadows of the dimly lit rooms, thick as cobwebs and just as delicate.

"You're home," Riku whispered as he emerged from the living room to stand silently before the brunette, worrying his lower lip and wringing his hands. Squall frowned at the word 'home'.

"Not quite the reaction I was expecting," he muttered, moving past the boy, selfishly delighting in the confused pout those soft lips pulled into.

"It's late," Riku said, raising the end of his words almost as if asking a question.

Squall's broad shoulders rose and fell smoothly and he continued his way down the hall.

"Squall," the boy whined, following after the retreating brunette.

"What?"

"Where'd you go?"

Squall shrugged again and continued his journey towards the bathroom, gaze lingering on the door that led to where this whole mess had begun; where fire devoured logic and hot mouths and hungry hands reached out to a place where chaos was king and raw, human desires overshadowed something more pure, more worthy of attention.

"It's late," Riku repeated, his voice thin as he followed Squall's gaze before quickening his pace to catch up with the brunette.

"Yeah," Squall grunted indifferently, twisting his fingers around a doorknob and slipping into the bathroom, shutting the door to prevent Riku from following him. A dull thud sounded from outside, followed by the whisper of fabric against wall and a faint sigh.

He locked the door.

"Squall."

Grey eyes narrowed and hands gripped the edge of the sink. He didn't know why he had come in here, so he made up a reason and crossed the room to turn on the shower.

"Squall, please," Riku pleaded once more, just as the shower sputtered to life. He was using that tone of voice again, the one that made Squall forget about how much he hated blue.

The door was unlocked, opened, and turquoise eyes, shining with sorrow, flickered upwards to gaze at a slightly-less-stoic-than-usual brunette.

"I'm sorry," the silver-haired boy murmured, rising quickly and throwing his arms around the other's waist. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Squall admitted softly, twisting fingers in the soft strands at the nape of Riku's neck.

"I'm sorry," Riku whispered anyway, standing tiptoed to crush his lips against the brunette's. Their bodies pressed closer together, and the pair stumbled backwards, the first unsure steps of a well-practiced dance, a waltz that forgot everything but piles of clothes on cold tile floors, careful feet stepping over porcelain walls, and waterfalls that washed away apologies, washed away memories of wild hair and blue eyes that were either too familiar and too bright, or too new and too calm.

And even when the water was shut off, they danced, whirling down hallways to tangle in sheets that whispered reminders of lovers past and were ignored as hoarse throats and shaking fingers burned new memories into the spaces where blue eyes once slept.

But when hands stilled and the air emptied, new memories melted away and apologies lurked behind clenched jaws and questions lingered in still-hungry mouths.

"Will it always be like this?" Riku asked, his head resting on a strong arm as dawn smiled dully through a smattering of rain clouds, shedding light into the room.

"Like what?" Squall asked, voice muffled by a smooth, pale shoulder as he placed small kisses against sweet skin.

"Like some weird cycle. We'll fight, have sex, forget, and then remember again. I'll dream and then we'll need to forget again, because my dreams will make us fight."

The brunette pulled Riku towards him, turning the boy so that their foreheads pressed together.

"Do you think there will ever be a point where we won't remember, where I won't dream?"

Squall surveyed the boy's expression, somehow sad, and content all at once.

_"But you didn't mean it?"_

"_No, I don't think I did."_

"_You don't **think** you did?"_

"I don't know, Riku."

"Neither of us was wrong you know."

"We weren't right either."

"Maybe we were."

"We weren't."

"I didn't think you'd come back this time."

"I did."

"But I didn't think you would. I thought you'd leave me, just like . . ."

"I made a promise, didn't I?"

"So did he," Riku whispered forlornly, burying his face in the crook of Squall's neck and tracing the strong lines of the brunette's body with his fingertips as the dim light of dawn was snuffed and rain pattered on rooftops and ran in rivulets down window panes.

"Do you think he'll ever come back?" he asked.

_"He doesn't love you, does he?"_

"I don't know, Riku," Squall replied, not caring whether or not the boy noticed his tensing muscles or the sharp tone of his voice.

"What would you do if he does?" Riku pressed, his bright eyes burning Squall's cheeks as he lifted his head to stare at the brunette.

_"You know, you meet a lot of people as a bartender, but I've never met anyone with eyes like yours. Not once."_

Turning his head, Squall frowned, wondering why he couldn't stop thinking about what that damn bartender had said.

"I don't know, Riku," he answered once more, practically growling.

The boy continued tracing invisible patterns over smooth skin until he found a patch of side that made the brunette's muscles twitch, his abs rippling almost un-noticeably. Smirking, Riku ran his fingers over Squall's side again and again, his free hand resting on the brunette's stomach to feel the gentle tremors his action elicited.

Squall shifted position and grabbed the boy's hands, locking them behind his neck as the boy laughed, burying captured hands in chestnut locks before planting a small kiss on his lover's cheek.

"I don't think we've remembered yet. Well, not really anyway," he sighed, rubbing his nose along Squall's jaw line.

"No, I don't think we did."

_"But you didn't mean it?"_

"What if we don't remember this time? What if I don't dream, ever again? That'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose."

"You _suppose_?"

"_You don't **think** you did?"_

"Yes, I suppose."

"Let's make a wish. Let's wish to never remember, to not dream again."

"What are we going to wish on?"

"A shooting star."

"Riku, it's dawn. There are no shooting stars," Squall whispered as if revealing to a small child that fireflies weren't fairies, and fairy tales didn't always have happy endings.

"It's a big universe, Squall," Riku said smilingly, "there's got to be a shooting star out there somewhere."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

There was a small moment of silence that was not heavy, or awkward, or even empty, before Riku spoke again.

"Wishing really gets you nowhere, now that I think about it. I mean, wishes don't always come true."

Riku was rambling again, but this time was different. This time, Squall listened. Full on.

"So let's promise. Let's promise each other, and ourselves, to never remember and never dream. You don't break promises, Squall."

"No. I don't."

"Neither do I. . .wait, don't promise yet; I want to change it."

"Change a promise?"

"It's not a promise yet, we can change it."

"Why are we changing it?"

Riku remained silent for a long while, and his smile slipped slowly away, and his face returned to the smooth curve of flesh where shoulder met neck. His breath billowed against warm skin, curling around nerve endings as his arms held tight to the brunette, still overwhelmingly grateful that they had something solid to hold on to. 

"You didn't mean it, did you?" he asked finally.

". . .I don't think I did," Squall answered hesitantly.

"If I said it, I wouldn't mean it."

"I know."

"I still love Sora."

"I know."

"A lot. It hurts, but. . .but I don't think I'll ever stop loving him."

"I know."

"If there were a shooting star I'd wish for him to come back."

"It's a big universe, Riku. There's got to be a shooting star out there somewhere."

"I wish he'd come back."

"I know."

"If he did, you know I would leave you, right?"

"I do."

"And you don't care?"

_". . .but I've never met anyone with eyes like yours. . ."_

"No, I don't."

"Why not?"

"That's a hard question to answer, Riku," Squall answered softly, pulling the boy closer, surprised by the bitter taste his words left in his mouth. For the past minute or so, a lot of them had tasted almost like a lie.

"Try?" Riku pleaded, and Squall swore he could feel the warm moisture of tears on the cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"I can't, I'm sorry."

"We're going to remember soon."

"We already have."

"Do daydreams count?"

"They count."

"Promise not to leave me?"

"I already did."

"Promise again. A double promise."

"I promise"

"Thank you," Riku whispered into the crook of Squall's neck, peeling away from the brunette and curling into himself on the far side of the bed.

It seemed like an eternity of silence and empty air passed as Squall listened to Riku's breathing, memorizing the rhythm and waiting for it to slow with sleep. It never did, for the boy rose and dressed silently, and Squall heard him leave first the room, and then the house.

And then it was he who dreamed.

He dreamed of fog, and a man with calm blue eyes and wild blonde hair and a soft voice speaking soft words.

And when he woke, the doorbell rang, and Squall remembered why he hated blue.


	4. Part the Final: The Only One

Author's Note: Uh-oh guys. This is it. Those of you who read Fairy Tale Ending know, I'm sure, what happened at the end of the last chapter. For those of you who don't. . .I'm not telling. Go read Fairy Tale Ending if you want to know, because I cannot seem to emphasize enough how important it is that you do that. Please? Thank you.

And So It Goes

Part the Final: "The Only One"

- _And so it goes, and so it goes,_

_And you're the only one who knows. –_

"You're back," a familiar voice called in an almost sing-song tone as a familiar blonde with now-familiar, calm blue eyes slid into a seat next to Squall.

The brunette glanced up and grunted a response, inwardly cursing.

"I'm sorry. I sounded too happy about that, didn't I?"

Squall shrugged and focused on the grains in the wood of the bar. He was back, yes, but he didn't want to be. Being back meant things had gone wrong again.

"What brings you back?" the blonde asked, resting an elbow against the bar and turning his gaze to the brunette.

Squall remained silent. He hadn't expected the blonde to be here, hadn't wanted him to be here. He had purposely come at a time when he'd figured the blonde would be off shift. The last time he was here he'd opened up to the man solely because he'd known that he would never see him again. And yet. . .

Chuckling, the blonde pushed away from the bar and leaned closer to Squall.

"You weren't expecting me to be here, were you?" he asked, smiling mischievously. "Lucky for me, I just got off covering a shift for a friend, so I've got plenty of time to talk."

Still, Squall was silent. He had absolutely no intention of talking to the blonde. The guy hadn't even introduced himself yet.

"If you want to, that is," the blonde continued after a long moment. "You don't, do you?"

"No, I don't," Squall said finally, still tracing those wood grains with his eyes.

"But you should. You may not want to, but it's probably best for you to talk about it."

". . ."

"I'm nosey, I know. I'd blame the job, but you wouldn't believe that for second, would you?"

"Not at all."

Silence fell between them, much to Squall's liking, but the blonde still stared, and Squall couldn't tell what to think of it. Those eerily calm eyes were locked on to his own, digging deep into his soul to try and find some sort of encouragement, or maybe just a sign of life in general. Either way, the brunette was confident that it would not be found. He was good at hiding.

Which, now that he thought about it, was kind of depressing, scary even. Hiding was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

"You wouldn't happen to have already eaten dinner, would you?" the blonde asked finally.

Squall glared at him incredulously.

"What? It's okay, isn't it? I mean, I hate to sound insensitive, but that boyfriend of yours _is_ an _ex-_boyfriend now, isn't he? Otherwise, you wouldn't be here again. Not so soon. And you do need someone to talk to."

The brunette sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward off the headache that was quickly approaching. This blonde was awfully nosey, very upfront and frank.

Despite all this being overwhelmingly annoying, Squall couldn't help but admire the blonde's confidence. He'd never met anyone else who was self-assured enough to make so many bold assumptions.

"What makes you think I need someone to talk to?" he asked gruffly.

"Doesn't everyone?" the blonde's tone was absolutely genuine, and, again, Squall found himself admiring him. He hadn't thought anyone really believed that kind of stuff anymore.

"There are some people who prefer not to talk."

"Like you?"

"Yes, like me."

"You talked before. Last time you were here you talked to me. And don't try to tell me it's different, just because you thought you'd never see me again. It's not. You still need to open up; it's not healthy to keep everything bottled up. I mean, that's how you lost him, isn't it?"

Squall turned towards the blonde and met those calm blue eyes with a challenging gaze.

"He wouldn't open up either."

"Because you wouldn't."

"I had nothing to say to him."

"Aside from things you didn't mean?"

"You have _no_ right to assume things like that," the brunette snapped, his voice low, so as not to attract the attention of other bar-goers.

"So tell me what happened, and I won't have to rely on assumptions," the blonde ground out, equally as determined to get information as Squall was to with-hold it.

Both pairs of eyes narrowed and met, each struggling to infuse the other with what they held, whether it was cold, steely, world-weary silence, or calm, almost refreshing confidence.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Squall inquired, now suspicious of that nosiness he'd earlier believed to be merely a manifestation of bad upbringing.

The blonde shrugged, and their eyes continued their small battle.

"I guess you could say I just want to help," he murmured, lips stretching into a smile.

"You're making assumptions again. I don't need help."

"You do. I can tell. Your type are in here all the time."

"My type?"

"Yes, your type. The kind that come out of bad relationship after bad relationship, and all because they refuse to open up, to talk to their partner."

"And do you often offer them 'help'?" Squall asked, his tone dripping with cynicism as his eyes narrowed even further, now just slits of angry, storm-cloud grey.

"No," the blonde replied, shaking his head slowly and still smiling, "just you. Most people need to get out of this on their own. Realize their mistakes and clean up. You, however, need someone to help you. That's how I see it, anyway. You need someone to force you to open up."

"Someone like you?" Squall asked, still soaked with cynicism.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Someone like me. So, dinner?"

"I already ate."

"You're lying."

"I don't lie," Squall pressed through clenched teeth. He didn't break promises either.

The blonde's smile dissipated and he took a moment to survey Squall's expression.

"Walk with me then?" he asked.

He brunette refused to answer, and instead elected to finally end their little staring contest.

"I'm not leaving until you answer me," the blonde drawled teasingly.

"…Whatever."

"Is that a yes?"

"…"

Shrugging, the blonde stood and grabbed on to Squall's arm, hoisting the brunette to his feet.

"It wasn't a no," he stated as the brunette's eyebrows quirked in confusion. He led Squall through the crowd after telling the bartender, a pretty young woman with sweet eyes and dark hair, to take the brunette's bill out of his paycheck. As they walked away, Squall saw her frown softly before sighing and smiling in a half-amused fashion.

"Where are you taking me?" Squall asked as they stepped outside. "I do need to get back home sooner or later."

"Home? You didn't take very long to move out," the blonde replied, starting down the street. "We'll go to a park nearby and walk around there until you're done."

"I never really officially moved in," Squall explained, ignoring the blonde's last sentence.

"Ah…so why are you back here?"

"Because he's back," Squall answered, those too-blue eyes compelling him to give in to overly childish stubbornness once more.

"Who's back?"

"Sora."

"Your boyfriend? Ex, rather?"

"No."

"Start from the beginning…" the blonde trailed off, waiting for his companion's name.

"Squall."

"Right. Start from the beginning, Squall."

The brunette narrowed his eyes, wondering why the blonde had ignored common courtesy and neglected to give his name as well.

"I met him in college," Squall began hesitantly.

"Who?"

"Riku."

"The ex?"

"Yes. He was a freshman; I was a senior. That was three years ago, and he was dating Sora."

"Oh. Sora's back. I see."

Squall nodded, "They'd been dating since their sophomore year of high school, though, from what they said, they might as well have been dating since they were three."

"That early, huh?"

"I guess so."

"What happened?"

"A few months ago they broke up."

The blonde whistled lowly as they turned into a small park.

"Six years? That's an accomplishment in _marriage_ these days. What happened to make them break that off?"

Squall shrugged, "I don't know. From the little Riku did tell me, it seems like they just hit a lull in their relationship and Sora got to thinking too much about it, reading too much into it."

"So you got worried about a friend and tried to help, but you went too far?"

"I hadn't meant to. It just kind of happened. I'm actually not sure if he initiated it or I did. Neither of us ever were."

The blonde stopped and took a seat on the grass, patting the grass the place next to him with a melodramatically pensive look on his face.

Squall's eyebrow rose sharply and he remained standing.

"So you didn't love him after all? You just wanted to help?"

"I don't know."

"Well from now on, that's it. Why did you want to help, Squall? _Exactly_ why, Squall?"

The brunette paused and looked down at the blonde, his bangs sweeping in front of his eyes as he blinked slowly. Blue eyes blinked back, questioning him patiently. Squall hadn't noticed before, but the blonde's eyes were not pure blue. There was the tiniest rim of green just around his pupils.

"He was walling himself up, closing himself off from the rest of the world."

"In other words, Squall, he reminded you of yourself?"

Squall stared at the blonde, bewildered by this newest assumption. No one had ever picked up on something like that before, not when dealing with Squall. Then again, Squall never gave anyone much information to work with.

"Looks like we've figured out your problem, Squall. You're not upset because you loved him. You're upset because you thought helping him would prove _you_ were not beyond helping. Right, Squall?"

The brunette made no response to the question, and instead posed his own.

"Why do you keep saying my name?" he asked, wanting to kick himself once the words left his lips. What kind of a question was that?

"I like it," the blonde replied, smiling and shrugging. "It suits you," he continued, stretching his arms out in front of him and wiggling his fingers.

"Help me," he demanded, frowning.

Squall reached forward and grabbed the blonde's hands, pulling him to his feet. Stumbling forward, the blonde held tight, refusing to let go as Squall tried to wrench his hands away.

The blonde smiled slowly and stepped forward. Raising one hand, and Squall's along with it, he brushed a lock of chestnut hair out of his companion's face.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For letting me help you. To be perfectly honest, I think it may have helped me more than it did you."

"I don't understand."

"If you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me," the blonde murmured huskily before softly pressing his lips against Squall's. Pulling away, he grinned widely and breathed out slowly. As his breath swept over the brunette's mouth, he couldn't help but notice how much softer and more tolerable it was than Riku's hot, hungry little gusts.

Squall watched the blonde walk away silently, fiercely debating whether or not he should call out and stop him, or let him go.

"What if you're not there?" he called finally.

"Ask for Tifa. Tell her Cloud sent you. She'll know what to do," the blonde said before rounding the corner and disappearing with his wild hair and calm eyes and soft voice and gentle breath.


End file.
